


In Another Life.

by Narwee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Grand Prix Final Banquet, M/M, post S1, unrequited young chris and viktor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 05:31:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18514903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narwee/pseuds/Narwee
Summary: It's not easy watching his first love with someone else, and while Chris knows how happy Yuuri makes Viktor, jealousy rears its ugly head as he watches them at the banquet.





	In Another Life.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on here, I used to write on ff.net when it was cool but it's been a while since I've shared my writing so openly. This was inspired by the Viktor/Chris audio from the YOI museum where Chris admits to being jealous towards Yuuri.
> 
> Enjoy.

There are memories of certain moments in life that never fade, they stay crisp and clean in the back of minds as if some sort of tease of the past that can’t change no matter how many thoughts go into what could have been said or done differently. The past is fixed. The future, however, isn’t. Spending time regretting the past meant that time was wasted on bettering the path ahead, it simply wasn’t worth the ache.

Yet it happens still. 

Everyone falls victim to the bittersweet melancholic feeling that came with memories, good or bad, they always were tinted with a longing of some sort. 

Christophe swirls the champagne flute in his hand before bringing to his mouth to take a sip while watching Viktor and Yuuri softly sway to faint banquet music, the pair wrapped up in one another both physically and mentally after making the rounds talking with sponsors and friends. He isn’t sure if they even realise where they are anymore. The Russian’s arms lazily draped around middle, hands respectfully resting at the small of Yuuri’s back while his own were wound loosely around Viktor’s neck – flushes that weren’t from alcohol high on cheeks.

Oh, so much had changed in a year. Too much almost.

For so long Viktor had shown to be far more disinterested in romance than what was said to the media, the ice was his true love – or thought to be for so long. Rigorous training schedules added in with a perfectionist streak had left many lovers scorned, one time he hasn’t even realised he’d been broken up with until Chris had sent him the Instagram post ( where one of his boyfriends said they split on good terms. ) along with a flurry of question marks while the skating fans had a meltdown in the comments.

Viktor Nikiforov was a genius, an enigma to most, but only on the ice. Elsewhere he was like anyone else, but not many got the chance to know that side of him. Chris has struck gold when befriending him, he can still see the rose thrown at him at Europeans over a decade ago, they’d bonded over their more exuberant approach to figure skating, while many feared being seen as too feminine before Viktor had chipped away at those standards in his younger years despite the ISU being stubborn at times, after had swept in a tide of change. Outfits became more outlandish, jewels, sequins, colour were becoming the norm. Femininity was much less taboo in the Men’s section and slowly becoming wholly accepted.

There’s not a single skater younger than Viktor that doesn’t admire him or at the very least was influenced by him, the living legend, the man with golden skates and a golden smile to match.

However, there’s a difference between admiring from afar and befriending him, seeing him as a human rather than some untouchable ice god was something that took a while to sink in, the novelty of having his phone number wore off after a while, Chris still remembers fawning to his mother about Viktor sending him a message so much it took two hours and a hundred deleted words to finally respond. The memory brings a smile pressed against the rim of the glass as he watches the unlikely lovebirds engrossed in each other, enjoying their last moments before Viktor returns to Russia for nationals and Yuuri goes home for his own. It’s both sweet and maddening.

“No pole dancing this year?” Bright voice drags him from the hole his mind was digging, he blinks, no longer watching the lovers and laughs quietly with a shrug at the red head. Glass flute tilted in the direction of the talk of the skating world as if the sight of them answered the question better than any words could. 

Chris takes another sip, ignoring the buzz of conversation around the room between other competitors and coaches. “Put a few more drinks in our silver medallist and who knows what could happen, Mila.” They both laugh at that, she looks at them swaying with a loved-up smile before glancing up at him and pats his upper arm. He takes comfort from the touch. “I don’t think Viktor wants a repeat of last year.” 

“He’s happy now.” There’s certainty in her voice that startles him a little, did the whole Russian team know how lonely Viktor was? Was he the only one blind to it or did the golden boy just hide it better from him than anyone else?  Too many questions flood mind, ones that will remain open, Chris won’t ever voice them and Viktor won’t answer them. “I can’t wait to see how it changes his skating, Yakov said he’s competing at nationals in three weeks so I guess we’ll see how inspires him there.” She trails off in thought, taking another champagne flute from a waiter with quiet thanks.

 **It stings.**  

After catching up to him, competing for years, training tirelessly for hours upon hours to prove himself a worthy competitor to Viktor and… It was never enough. Not enough to make him happy, not enough to inspire him, not enough to even be a contender for his love.

 _Stop. You’re not a foolish teenager anymore._ He scolds his thoughts. Tries to erase the hurt from features before it becomes clear that no matter how many times he’s convinced himself that he’s over him, the universe had meant them to only be friends and he was content with that, getting over Viktor Nikiforov was an ongoing battle that he isn’t sure will ever end.

Childish jealousy sticks in his throat. A tantrum in the back of his mind. Yes, it was he that caught Viktor’s eye enough for him to give him a rose but what was a rose compared to taking a half a year off of work despite knowing their time on the ice was extremely limited to fly halfway across the world on a drunken request that wasn’t even remembered by the other?

Nothing.

It was nothing.

The stem of the glass flute feels too much like that thornless rose. He fills the silence with a fake little contemplative hum as he takes a much larger gulp this time. “I’ll be watching.” Said nonchalantly before tone perks up again, the wave of jealousy leaving as quickly as it came, and for that Chris is thankful. It’ll always hurt, but he’s no longer a wide-eyed teenager who was too naïve for his own good. He’s a grown man. A Swiss champion. An Olympian. “Though I’m more interested in seeing little kitten’s reaction to the **big shot** returning.” 

Mila gasps, looking around quickly to find the little blond, “I forgot about that. I need to go torment Yuri over it, maybe he’ll have a dance off with Viktor now if he gets annoyed enough. I’ll be back!”

And just like that she’s gone, disappearing between some pair skaters while yelling in Russian with an unspoken taunt already woven into accented words. 

Ah, the young ones always lightened up the parties when no pole dancing was happening yet. There’s no stopping the chuckle that escaped. Familiar weighted hand comes to rest atop of shoulder, it slides down to press into the small of his back and warmth blossoms in chest. “What, don’t tell me you’re bored already?”

Chris refuses to turn but is helpless to relaxing into the comfort of his boyfriend, “I think Josef was trying to bet with the Russian coach now that Viktor’s back to inspire you, you’ll get gold at the next Grand Prix final and I wasn’t going to get caught up in it. I thought everyone knew not to bet with the Russians.” Masumi’s voice almost made him smile more than the little anecdote. Almost. He finally looks, moving slightly to clink their half full glasses together.

 “Well, Mila wanted another dance off to happen. Maybe it’ll be Josef and Yakov this year.” Rests the side of his head against his partner’s forehead fondly, stifling an unattractive snort at the mere thought of it happening, instead laughs quietly.

So, maybe a part of him would always feel the sting of childish jealousy that his first love never was his, feel a little disheartened that it wasn’t him that sparked the light in Viktor’s skating again but… It’s okay. 

Not everyone gets their first love, life wasn’t a love story written to be enjoyed. 

He knows he’ll always love Viktor, for his skating, for his quirky personality filled with oxymorons. However, Chris knows that loving him as a best friend was how it was meant to be, and it’s okay.

 _It’s okay._  

Neither of them is lonely anymore. 

“Oh, I would pay for that to happen though… No poles allowed.” Chris pouts at that before making a disgusted face as he realises why. The thought of the coaches on the pole was enough for him to agree with a nod. No arguments. No whining. No one wants to see that ever. 

He shakes his head in an attempt to will away that image from his head. “Pole? What pole?” That earns him a kiss pressed into cheek.

Automatically leans further against Masumi, begins to turn to steal a peck but it’s ruined before his chin moves more than an inch. Suddenly there’s an arm around shoulders, hand dangling down arm and green eyes catch the shine of the gold band on his best friend’s finger. (He hears Mila’s, “he’s happy.” Repeat in his head at the sight.) The kiss was aborted for now, silently noting a rain check on it for later when he’s not being manhandled by a certain Russian.

“I’ll be seeing you at Euros. Get ready.” There’s something in Viktor’s voice that had been missing for too long, only now it’s back does Chris realise just how empty he used to sound when talking about upcoming competitions. Masumi quietly introduces himself to Yuuri behind them.

The Swiss rolls his eyes playfully, shoving the arm off of him. “You’re the one who needs to get ready, Coach.” How Viktor’s supposed to coach and compete at the same, he doesn’t know but if anyone could do it, infuriatingly it’d be the living legend to prove critics wrong all over again.

Maybe the skating world should get ready for a new normal again, started by the same man.

“I’m ready. When am I never ready?” Chris almost wants to poke him square in the forehead to wipe away that smug smirk but… He’s right. Again. Of course, Viktor’s ready, he probably has routines polished off already, only in this competition the Russian’s in love. He’s found that spark again.

It makes his gut clench tight.

Suddenly, he wants to find a rink to practise in until his own routines were flawless with little chance of mistakes. Wants to ache all over even if he knows going against little Yuri and Viktor was going to be a battle if he wants a glimpse of standing on the middle podium. 

Not that he’d admit it. “The gold is mine, Nikiforov.” A threat with a smile that has them both laughing, both shoving each other like children on the playground. This is how they show their love for one another.

And he wouldn’t change it at all.

“Yakov and Josef are betting I heard.” Chris barely manages to get it out before Viktor’s bright teal eyes widen in both mischief and excitement, he wants to tell him not to intervene, however… He doesn’t. swallows the _no_ and swaps it for a hummed, “about us.” It takes three seconds for it to sink in and then Viktor’s gone towards their coaches with a gleeful spring to each step.

Looks like the banquet was about to rival last years.

“Vitya… Wait, what is he doing?” The confused look on Yuuri’s face was adorable, Chris can already tell that he knows that Russian’s up to no good once again.

He pulls the Japanese skater closer, tucks him under his arm with a little laugh. “Our coaches are betting, don’t worry. I know he’s already pinned you for getting gold.” Picks up Yuuri’s right hand and holds it up to the light shining on them so the matching ring glints proudly. “He has a lot hanging on you winning.”

It’s true. His reputation as a skater and coach was on the line – not many took a break willingly and return to the top, his dignity, pride and now his upcoming marriage.

Who’d have thought Viktor’d get married before him?

“Come, Yuuri, let me and Masumi get you a drink----"


End file.
